


Dearest Sister

by chwheeler



Category: Some Like It Hot (1959)
Genre: Epistolary, Misunderstandings, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:05:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwheeler/pseuds/chwheeler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dearest Sister,</p><p>Mr Fielding has returned and brought his fiancee! Her companions are lovely, but I can't help but think something rather odd is going on between Miss Daphne and Joe....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dearest Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Some Like it Hot or any of the characters depicted in this work of fiction. I am not making any sort of profit from this fic. It was done purely for fun!
> 
> This is my first official attempt at an Epistolary style fic. I am pleased.
> 
> I also do not share the stuffy and out-of-date views of my letter-writing character. I have absolutely no objections to unmarried women living with saxophone players.

Dearest Sister,

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to reply to your last letter. As you know, as an important staff member, it is my duty to help prepare the house for the return of Mr. Fielding. He has long been off the Florida coast in the hopes of quenching his thirst for life. Mrs. Fielding (his mother, I mean, he has yet to marry, but more on that later!) felt it best to sequester him there after the string of showgirls involved with the George White scandals.

As I was saying, the house had to be prepared for his return. Lo and behold, not only had he managed to add zeal to his already overflowing cup, he had managed to acquire a fiancée! And not just any elderly millionaire’s daughter, but a young woman from a jazz music band. I imagine his mother will be less than pleased. She is undoubtedly not a fan of the “bull fiddle”, as they call it.

So as we polished, dusted, and aired the rooms, three new guests were thrust upon us with Mr. Fielding’s arrival. The first, of course, was the aforementioned fiancée. She’s an interesting woman of around 30 in age, if I had to guess. Daphne (that’s her name) has nearly as much spunk as Mr. Fielding on his most lavish days. I … hesitate to comment on her appearance. She’s quite a bit taller than Mr. Fielding and her reddish-blonde hair appears to be natural. As mean as it is for me to say, she’s not… she’s interesting looking. I refuse to besmirch a perfectly nice woman.

She has been nothing but kind. As have her acquaintances, the other two guests joining Mr. Fielding. One is a saxophone player, Joe. Joe is nice enough to the staff, even if I’m wary about saxophone players on the whole. The other is a singer and ukulele player named, oddly enough, Sugar. Sugar is a stunning woman who seems overwhelmed by the extravagance of the house and staff. A very charming woman.

Dearest, I must confess. I’ve been having some rather odd thoughts about this whole situation. It is the oddest thing! I can’t help but feel that something is off with this new party of people. The thing is I’ve been observing our new guests with a close eye.

Misses Daphne and Sugar are from the same girl’s jazz band, so you would think they are the closest of friends. Joe is intending to marry Sugar, so I assume that is how he relates into the group. But if you pay the closest of attention, you can find a startling familiarity between Daphne and Joe. I would almost guess they were brother and sister if I did not know better. They are frightfully rude towards one another, but there’s a fondness underlying the rudeness.

I would worry, but you know how Mr. Fielding gets. At least, you know from my accounts of him. He is smitten and (I even dare say) his mother could not dissuade him.

Well, dear sister, I must go now, lest this letter gets any longer than it already is. Should I learn anything more, I will write immediately after I receive your reply.

Feeling oddly rummy about it,  
Your Brother

P.S. I’ve been meaning to give the cook mother’s pound cake recipe. Could you please send a copy, mine was destroyed in a tragic pie accident. Thank you.


	2. Darling Sister

Darling Sister,

You would never believe what I have found out!

But first, thank you for the recipe. It was exactly what this full house needed. The cook prepared it perfectly, just as mother could. It was deliciously warm and moist. I do love a good pound cake.

Sister! Don’t you skip over my riveting pound cake story to get to the gossip! Not that the pound cake wasn’t delicious, it was I only wrote that paragraph to keep you in suspense. Just as this one has! Now, on to the only reason you accept correspondence from your far off twin brother.

As I relayed to you last time, Miss Daphne and the saxophone player Joe were acting unusually close in terms of companionship. Well, it so happens that they are awfully close. It’s almost scandalous!

I happened to find out during one of Mr. Fielding’s wild parties. He invited just about everyone in his acquaintance. There were piles of food and drinks of all sorts. (Wink, wink, as you know.) I kept close watch over the patrons and kept all of the refreshments in order. Most interestingly, there was a live band to allow dancing.

In the middle of the party, after introducing her to all of the “big-wigs”, Mr. Fielding accompanied Daphne to the dance floor. They then proceeded to dance a rather riveting tango. This allowed me to notice just how much larger than Mr. Fielding Daphne really is. She is a very broad lady, with large shoulders. (I assume that is from her instrument of choice.)

During this display, Joe and Sugar came to the table I was servicing to refresh their drinks. I chanced to hear a side conversation they were having in hushed tones. (Just to be clear, I was not eavesdropping, dear sister. I merely happened to be in the vicinity. I could not help but overhear!)

I distinctly heard Joe tell Sugar that he hadn’t known Daphne could dance so well. I shall transcribe the following conversation:

“I had no clue, uhm, she could dance like that.”

“You never went out to dance?”

“Not really, we were usually on the bandstand. We really only worked, ate, and went to the track. We must have been kicked out of three apartments!”

This was when they received their drinks and moved out of earshot. But I didn’t need to hear anymore!

If I understand what was said, we must assume that Daphne and Joe lived together at some point! Can you believe such a thing? She’s such a nice woman, too. To have been living with a saxophone player, unmarried. And gambling! And getting evicted, more than once! I must say, I find this rather disturbing.

I apologize if that seems frightfully unmodern of me. Mr. Fielding is a very forgiving man, I am sure he would not mind what I have found out.

Well, sister, I must go now. I hope you are well.

Shaking his head in befuddlement,  
Your Brother

P.S. No, I will not tell you the pie story. And that’s the end of it!


	3. Oh so Chastising Sister

Oh so Chastising Sister,

I was so excited to receive your letter until I read it. Must you think so ill of me? I know I tend toward the old fashioned and away from the modern, but that is to be expected. I am much older than you. By nearly ten minutes!

If it puts me at all back in your favor, I have an exciting tale from an outing. And a picture of all involved! That is enclosed with this letter, of course. As you can tell, the elderly man is Mr. Fielding. On his right is the beautiful Miss Sugar. With her is Joe, a handsome man, as you can see. And on Mr. Fielding’s left is the infamous Daphne.

I use infamous because she is undoubtedly so, at least among the staff. She seems to be about at all hours, is the polar opposite of demure, very un-shy, and absolutely no one is to enter her sleeping quarters without her prior knowledge. She is a wonderful woman, if a bit more eccentric than previously thought.

Despite these eccentricities, she was pleasant on the outing. She has none of the cold distance towards servants that most millionaire fiancées acquire, often too quickly. I accompanied Mr. Fielding and guests on a seaside trip. The late winter chill in the air created an idyllic, empty beach on which to enjoy lunch. Even though I was there to assist, only Mr. Fielding expected any sort of service from me. And even then, I feel as though that was merely to provide me a sense of purpose. I’m sure that my presence would not have been missed had I not been there.

After the light lunch, Sugar and Joe insisted I walk through the surf with them. I tried to refuse (how improper!), but they would hear nothing of it. Mr. Fielding shooed me along, telling me to (and this is a direct quotation!) “Loosen that stiff upper lip”. I was so shocked I immediately ran to join Joe and Sugar a ways down the beach.

It was the oddest feeling, dear sister. There I was, on an empty beach without my shoes on, attempting to have fun. (Perish the thought!) During this delightful interlude, I happened to spot Mr. Fielding and Daphne having a hushed conversation. They were huddled quite close. I was intrigued. As the water brushed over my now very chilled feet, I could see Daphne continually touching her head and smoothing her dress. She looked quite worried. Mr. Fielding, after each of her comments, merely smiled. After a few minutes of this back and forth, Mr. Fielding pulled Daphne’s hands into his and gave one final statement. Daphne’s response was obvious relief.

In truth, I felt quite relieved also. Even though I know nothing of what they spoke, I could tell it was desperately important. I can only hope they spoke of the previous relationship with Joe. Whatever it was, Mr. Fielding obviously did not mind. As I’ve said before, he is a very forgiving man. It is his best quality.

And it is here, dear sister, I must end my letter. For not even a whole day passed after that seaside journey before we were ordered to begin preparations for a wedding!

Smiling to the surprise of even himself,  
Your Brother

P.S. Let’s just say it involved pristine white clothing and a quite sizable amount of stewed berries. Let’s just leave it at that.


End file.
